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She felt a warmth, a touch. In her sleep-fogged mind, she enjoyed the pleasant sensation, not yet awake enough to wonder why someone was touching her or even who it was that was touching her. As the touch continued, she took a deep breath, filling her lungs to capacity, holding it for just a blissful moment, and then releasing it; the sigh of contentment obvious to the one whose hand caused such contentment. She began to stretch, cat-like, arching her back, raising her arms above her head, her legs reaching as far as the covers on the bed permitted. She was laying on her side, and after her stretch satisfied her muscles, she began to roll over onto her back; however, a hand in the middle of her back stopped her. She froze; her mind beginning to clear, her eyes began to open, her senses one by one awakening.

She opened her mouth to speak, to ask who it was who had taken it upon themselves to join her in her bed, and the hand gently covered her mouth, a voice softly shushing her at the same time. She was momentarily annoyed, and consciously thought how odd it was that she did not feel fear or panic. It was curiosity, interest that prompted her to roll over and see the owner of this hand, not fear for her safety. Indeed, for reasons she did not understand, she had never felt safer in her life than she felt right at that moment. Perhaps that was why she did not cry out or protest whatsoever when she felt a soft scarf being placed gently and lovingly over her eyes, feeling it being tied behind her head, the hands careful not to catch her hair in the knot that held the scarf in place. No, it was not fear that began to ...

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